Karen snickered. "How much of the movie are we going to watch?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "We'll find out. Shall I go get some c.o.kes?"

"Sure," she said. "Don't bother with candy or popcorn, though-not for me, anyway. I'm pretty full."

"Okay. Me, too. Be right back." Jonathan got out of the car and went over to the concession stand. When he returned to the car with the sodas, he found Karen sitting in the back seat. His hopes rose. They probably wouldn't see a whole lot of the film. He slid in beside her. "Here." He handed her one of the c.o.kes. "We'd better be careful not to spill these later."

She looked at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, which made both of them laugh so hard, they almost spilled the c.o.kes then.

They did pay some attention to the first few minutes of the movie, but even then they were paying a lot more attention to each other. Jonathan put his arm around Karen. She snuggled against him. He never did figure out which of them started the first kiss. Whichever one it was, the kiss went on and on. Karen put a hand on the back of his neck to pull him to her.

He rubbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the fabric of her blouse. She made a noise deep in her throat-almost a growl. Thus encouraged, he undid two b.u.t.tons of the blouse and reached inside the cup of her bra. Her flesh was soft and smooth and warm.

Before very long, her blouse and bra were off. Now that they were en-gaged, there didn't seem to be much point to the stop-and-start games they'd played while they were dating. She rubbed him, too, through his chinos. He hoped he wouldn't explode.

He slid his hand under her skirt to the joining of her legs. "Oh, G.o.d, Jonathan," she whispered as he stroked her.

"I've got a rubber in my wallet," he said. She hesitated. They still hadn't gone all the way. But then she lay back on the seat. Jonathan tried to get her panties off, get his trousers down far enough, and put on the rubber, all at the same time. At last, he managed all three. "I love you," he gasped as he clumsily poised himself over her.

The rubber helped. Without it, he was sure he would have come as soon as he started. As he had with Ka.s.squit, he discovered this was Karen's first time. Since it wasn't his, he had a better notion of what to do than he'd had up in the starship. Karen still winced when he pierced her.

Even with the rubber, he didn't last long. After gasping his way to delight, he asked, "Are you okay? Was it okay?"

"It hurt," she answered. "I know it's supposed to get better. Right now, I like your hand and your mouth more. Is that all right?" She sounded anxious.

"I guess so," Jonathan answered. He liked her hand and especially her mouth at least as well, too. But this had a finality to it that nothing else could match. He kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Karen said. "Give me my top back, will you?" Inside a couple of minutes, they were fully dressed again-just in time for the big car chase. Jonathan couldn't think of a movie he'd enjoyed more.

Ttomalss wondered whether all the time he'd spent raising Ka.s.squit had been for nothing. Every time he looked at her, his liver twinged inside him.

Her hair grew longer every day, making her resemble a wild Big Ugly more and more. Her spirit seemed more like a wild Big Ugly's every day, too.

In something close to despair, he railed at her: "Will you also wash off your body paint and put on wrappings?"

"No, I see no need for that," Ka.s.squit answered with maddening calm. "But if I am a Tosevite citizen of the Empire, should I not follow Tosevite usages where they do no harm? I do not think a head of hair is very harmful."

"In any direct sense, probably not," Ttomalss admitted. "But your grow-ing it seems a slap in the snout at the Race, which has spent so much effort to nurture you and to acculturate you."

"You have made me a creature, a tool, a thing to be used," Ka.s.squit said. "It has taken me a long time, probably too long, to realize I can be more than that. If I am a citizen of the Empire, I should have as much freedom as any other citizen. If I choose to be eccentric, I may." She ran a hand over her dark, hairy scalp.

"If you choose to make yourself ugly, you mean," Ttomalss said.

But Ka.s.squit made the negative gesture. "For Tosevites, and especially for Tosevite females, hair seems to contribute to attractiveness. I should prefer to be judged by the standards of my own biological species there. I have had enough of being thought a repulsively ugly imitation of a female of the Race. Believe me, superior sir, I have had more than enough of that." She used an emphatic cough.

Ttomalss flinched. He knew some of the things Tessrek and other males had said while he was rearing Ka.s.squit. He'd never really thought about the effect that hearing such things might have on a young individual isolated from everyone around her because of her appearance and biology. There were probably a lot of things he'd never thought about while rearing Ka.s.squit. Some of them were coming up out of the shadows to bite him now.

Slowly, he said, "Punishing me for errors I made in the past serves no useful purpose I can see."

"I am not punishing you. That is not my intention at all," Ka.s.squit said. "I am, however, a.s.serting my own individuality. Any citizen of the Empire may do as much."

"That is a truth," Ttomalss said. "Another truth, however, is that most citizens of the Empire suppress a good deal of their individuality, the better to fit into the society of which they are but small parts."

Ka.s.squit ran a hand over her hair again, and then along her smooth, scaleless, upright body. Even as she bent into the posture of respect, she spoke with poisonous politeness: "Exactly how, superior sir, am I supposed to suppress my individuality? You cannot change me into a female of the Race. You do not know how many times I have wished you could. Since I cannot be a female of the Race, how can I do better than to be the best Tosevite female I can possibly be?"

Her argument was painfully cogent. But Ttomalss had an argument of his own: "You are not culturally prepared to be a Tosevite female."

"Of course I am not," Ka.s.squit said. "You were the one who told me I was the first Tosevite citizen of the Empire. Do you now disavow those words because I have learned to see that I am truly a Tosevite and cannot imitate the Race in every imaginable way?"

"At the moment, you seem to be doing your best not to imitate the Race in any imaginable way." Ttomalss didn't try to hide his bitterness.

"I have spent my whole life imitating the Race," Ka.s.squit said. "Am I not ent.i.tled to spend some little while discovering what the biological part of my individuality means, and how I can best adjust to its demands?"

"Of course you are," Ttomalss answered, wishing he could say no. "But I do wish you would not throw yourself into this voyage of discovery with such painful intensity. It will do you no good."

"No doubt you were the proper judge of such things when I was a hatchling," Ka.s.squit said. "Now that I am an adult, however, I will plot my course as I think best, not in accordance with anyone else's views."

"Even if that course proves a disastrous mistake?" Ttomalss asked.

Ka.s.squit made the affirmative gesture. "Even if that course proves a di-sastrous mistake. You, of course, superior sir, have never made a single mistake in all the days since you broke out of your eggsh.e.l.l."

At the moment, Ttomalss was thinking the most disastrous mistake he'd ever made was deciding to rear a Tosevite hatchling. He'd thought that before, when the terrifying Chinese female named Liu Han kidnapped him as vengeance for his trying to raise her hatchling as he'd succeeded in raising Ka.s.squit. But even his success here was proving full of thorns he'd never expected.

"Every male, every female makes mistakes," he said. "Wise ones, however, do not make unnecessary mistakes."

"Which are which is for me to judge, superior sir," Ka.s.squit said. "And now, if you will excuse me . . . . ." She didn't wait to find out if he would excuse her. She just turned and strode out of his chamber. Had the door been the type common on Tosev 3, she would have slammed it. As things were, she could only leave in a huff. ." She didn't wait to find out if he would excuse her. She just turned and strode out of his chamber. Had the door been the type common on Tosev 3, she would have slammed it. As things were, she could only leave in a huff.

With a sigh, Ttomalss got down to the rest of his work, to everything that had acc.u.mulated while he was down in Cairo working with the other members of the commission on Earl Warren. He studied a report of Tosevite attendance at shrines dedicated to the spirits of Emperors past. Since establishing those shrines had been his idea, reports naturally came to him.

He would have liked to see the numbers larger than they were. Few Big Uglies in the regions where their native superst.i.tions were particularly powerful sought to modify those superst.i.tions. That was unfortunate, because those were the areas where Ttomalss had most hoped to change Tosevite behavior and beliefs.

"Patience," Ttomalss said to himself. Patience was the foundation upon which the Race had built its success. But it seemed to be more a virtue on Home than here on Tosev 3.

Ttomalss hissed in surprise on noticing that the shrines with the highest attendance were not on territory the Race ruled at all, but in the not-empire of the United States. He wondered what that meant, and wondered all the more so because the Americans had gone to the extreme of immolating their own city to keep the Race from gaining influence over them.

Further investigation of this apparent paradox may well prove worth-while, he wrote. Then he noticed that Atvar had arranged to send the two perverts who had caused so much scandal to the United States. The Amen-cans would apparently put up with anything, no matter how bizarre. he wrote. Then he noticed that Atvar had arranged to send the two perverts who had caused so much scandal to the United States. The Amen-cans would apparently put up with anything, no matter how bizarre.

The telephone hissed. "Senior Researcher Ttomalss," he said. "I greet you."

"And I greet you." The image that appeared on the monitor belonged to Tessnek, who'd been an itch under Ttomalss' scales every since he started trying to raise Tosevite hatchlings. With him, I have to put up with any-thing, too, With him, I have to put up with any-thing, too, Ttomalss thought. Tessnek went on, "Are you aware of the latest disgusting behavior on the part of your pet Big Ugly?" Ttomalss thought. Tessnek went on, "Are you aware of the latest disgusting behavior on the part of your pet Big Ugly?"

"She is not my pet," Ttomalss said. However much Ka.s.squit disheartened him, Tessrek was the last male before whom he would show that. "She is a citizen of the Empire, as I am and as you are."

"She certainly boasts of being one," Tessrek said, "but her behavior hardly makes the boast anything in which she or the Empire can take pride."

"By which I suppose you mean that you tried baiting her again and found yourself unhappy at the outcome," Ttomalss said. "You really should learn, Tessrek. This has happened before, and it will keep right on happening as long as you refuse to recognize that she is an adult and an intelligent being." He himself was none too eager to recognize Ka.s.squit as an adult, but he wouldn't admit that to Tessrek, either.

Tessnek hissed scornfully. "I am not referring to the Big Ugly's usual rudeness. I am resigned to that." He was lying, as Ttomalss knew, for the sake of moral advantage. Before Ttomalss could call him on it, he continued, "I am referring to the disgusting growth of hair she is cultivating on top of her head. It truly does sicken me. I want to turn my eye turrets away every time I see her."

"You have never complained about the hair wild Big Uglies grow," Ttomalss replied, "so I think you are singling her out for undue, unfair attention."

"But those other Big Uglies are, as you point out, wild," Tessnek said. "Both you and Ka.s.squit have been prating that she is a proper citizen of the Empire. Proper citizens of the Empire do not grow hair."

"I know of no law or regulation forbidding citizens of the Empire from growing hair." Ttomalss swung both eye turrets toward Tessrek and spoke in judicious tones: "As a matter of fact, you might try it yourself. It could do wonders for your appearance."

Tessrek hissed again, this time in real fury. Ttomalss broke the connection in the middle of the hiss. With any luck, Tessrek wouldn't bother him for some time. Ttomalss' mouth fell open in a laugh. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much since ... Since mating with Felless, ... Since mating with Felless, he thought. But then he made the negative gesture. The pleasures of mating were altogether distinct from other sorts. he thought. But then he made the negative gesture. The pleasures of mating were altogether distinct from other sorts.

He went back to work with a lighter liver. A moment later, though, he too hissed, in chagrin and dismay. He'd bounced Ka.s.squit's arguments off Tessnek's snout. They made a surprisingly good case when he used them against a male he'd long disliked.

Of course, when Ka.s.squit used those arguments against him, he'd thought them absurd. What did that mean? He was scientist enough to see one possibility he'd rejected out of hand before. By the Emperor, By the Emperor, he thought, and cast down his eye turrets. he thought, and cast down his eye turrets. What if she is right? What if she is right?

Once conquered, the Rabotevs and the Hallessi had soon abandoned almost all of their own cultural baggage and been a.s.similated into the larger, more complex, more sophisticated culture that was the Empire. And their cases had always been the Race's models for what would happen on Tosev 3.

But what if the model was wrong? In terms of biology, the Big Uglies were fan more different from the Race than either the Rabotevs on the Hal-lessi. And in terms of culture, they were far closer to the Race than the Rabotevs on the Hallessi had been. Both those factors argued that they would acculturate more slowly and to a lesser degree than either of the other species the Race had conquered.

Even if Tosev 3 was finally conquered in full, Tosevites might go right on letting their hair grow and wearing wrappings. They might keep speaking their own languages and practicing their own superst.i.tions. That would make life-to say nothing of administration-more difficult for the Race.

Ttomalss wondered if in their own history the Big Uglies had known any situations a.n.a.logous to this one. He knew less than he should have about Tosevite history. So did the Race as a whole. It hadn't seemed germane. But maybe it was. I wonder how I can get in touch with a Tosevite historian, I wonder how I can get in touch with a Tosevite historian, he thought. he thought. Maybe Felless will know a way, down there on the surface of Tosev 3. Maybe Felless will know a way, down there on the surface of Tosev 3.

"No," Pshing told Straha when he tried to call Atvar. "The fleetlond is busy with important matters, and has given orders that he cannot be disturbed."

"Am I no longer an important matter, then?" Straha demanded angrily. "Were it not for me, you would still have no idea which Tosevite not-empire struck at the colonization fleet."

"I am sorry, sup-" Atvan's adjutant checked himself. Straha's rank remained a point of ambiguity. He wasn't a shiplond any more, not to anyone but himself. What was was he? n.o.body quite knew. Not enough for Pshing to call him he? n.o.body quite knew. Not enough for Pshing to call him superior sir, superior sir, evidently. "I am sorry," Pshing repeated. "The fleetlond has given me explicit orders, and I cannot disobey them." evidently. "I am sorry," Pshing repeated. "The fleetlond has given me explicit orders, and I cannot disobey them."

Straha wondered if he were the only male of the Race on Tosev 3 who'd ever imagined disobeying orders. After a moment's thought, he realized he wasn't. There had been mutinies during the first round of fighting-only a handful, but they did happen. By all he'd been able to find out, few of them had had happy aftermaths for the mutineers.

Had his own defection had a happy aftermath for him? He was still try-ing to figure that out. It could have been worse. He did know that. He could have defected to the SSSR, for instance. He shuddered at the thought. He might have done it. He hadn't known any better then.

"And now, if you will excuse me ... ..." Pshing said, and broke the connection.

Straha wondered what would happen if he tried to walk into Atvar's of-fice despite being unwelcome. By far the most likely result would be his expulsion. He sighed. Much as he enjoyed irritating the fleetlond, here he would get more irritation than he gave out.

I was freer in the United States, he thought. For a moment, the idea of redefecting crossed his mind. But he made the negative gesture. After the destruction of Indianapolis, the Americans would not welcome him. he thought. For a moment, the idea of redefecting crossed his mind. But he made the negative gesture. After the destruction of Indianapolis, the Americans would not welcome him.

On the other fork of the tongue, the Race didn't welcome him, either. He was still Straha the traitor as far as males and females here in Cairo were concerned. What he knew was useful. He himself? They wished they could take his knowledge and leave him alone. They might as well have been Americans.

He made the negative gesture again. In that regard, the Race was worse than the Americans, because his own kind were more self-righteous and sanctimonious. And, he realized, he had more of a taste for freedom, for doing what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, than had been true before he defected to the United States.

Who would have believed it? he thought. he thought. The Big Uglies' ideology has painted itself on me. The Big Uglies' ideology has painted itself on me. That wasn't true to any enormous extent-he still thought the American reporter who would have printed his opinion that the United States had been responsible for attacking the colonization fleet was addled. The male had had no business doing any such thing. That wasn't true to any enormous extent-he still thought the American reporter who would have printed his opinion that the United States had been responsible for attacking the colonization fleet was addled. The male had had no business doing any such thing.

And then the ex-shiplord's mouth fell open in a startled laugh. When he'd offered the reporter that opinion, he'd thought of it as nothing but a joke, a way to get under the Tosevite's scales-no, under his skin under his skin was the English idiom, because Big Uglies had no scales. But he'd told the fellow the truth after all. was the English idiom, because Big Uglies had no scales. But he'd told the fellow the truth after all.

So what? he thought. he thought. Even if it was the truth, it had no business appearing in a newspaper. Maybe I am not so enamored of freedom as I thought. Even if it was the truth, it had no business appearing in a newspaper. Maybe I am not so enamored of freedom as I thought. But he made the negative gesture once more. Compared to the Americans, he was a reactionary. Compared to his own kind, he was a radical, and a worse radical than he'd been before fleeing to the USA. But he made the negative gesture once more. Compared to the Americans, he was a reactionary. Compared to his own kind, he was a radical, and a worse radical than he'd been before fleeing to the USA.

And there were plenty of males-and, by now, very likely some females, too-who were a good deal more radical than he. The expatriate community in the United States was flourishing. Some males were even prepared to look kindly on snoutcounting, and to propose inst.i.tutionalizing it for the Race as well. That still struck Straha as laughable.

That members of the Race could hold such ideas, though, was bemusing. Everyone talked about the ways in which the Race was influencing Tosev 3 and the Tosevites. And with good reason: the Race's influence on the planet and its folk was profound. And the Race's influence on the Tosevites had been envisioned since the first probe sent to this world found it habitable.

No one-at least, no one among the Race-seemed much interested in talking about ways in which Tosev 3 and the Tosevites were exerting influence in the other direction. n.o.body had expected the Big Uglies to own any ideas worth investigating. The probe sent to this world hadn't shown everything worth showing-or rather, Tosev 3 and the Tosevites had changed far faster than anyone back on Home had imagined possible. The leading civilizations here were formidable intellectually as well as technologically.

And Tosev 3 itself was influencing the Race. A good-sized jar of ginger sat on the floor by Straha's sleeping mat. He went over and had a taste. How many males, how many females, indulged themselves so whenever they found the chance? He could freely do so-a small mercy from Atvar, who did not seem inclined to grant any large ones.

For the Race as a whole, though, and especially for females, ginger nemained illegal, with harsh penalties levied against those caught using it. But males and females kept right on tasting. Mating season as a brief, separate time was a thing of the past. The colonists were still new to Tosev 3. They hadn't fully adjusted to the change yet; a lot of them kept trying to pretend it hadn't happened. But how would things look in a couple of generations?

Straha had heard the scandalous story of the two perverts who'd become as s.e.xually addicted to each other as they were physically addicted to the herb. All things considered, Straha supposed Atvar had been wise to exile them to the USA, where the Big Uglies reckoned such infatuations normal.

"But Atvar has all the imagination of a mud puddle," Straha said. He was sure his chamber was monitored, but didn't care; his opinion of the fleetlond was about as far removed from secret as it could be. Atvar no doubt believed the two perverts an aberration. Maybe they were. Straha wouldn't have bet on it. To him, they seemed far more likely to be the shape of things to come.

The telephone hissed. "Former shiplord and current nuisance Straha speaking," Straha said. "I greet you."

"And I greet you." Atvan's image appeared in the monitor. "You have named yourself well."

"For which I more or less thank you." With ginger making every nerve tw.a.n.g, Straha didn't much care what he said.

"Pshing tells me you tried to call," Atvan said. "I was occupied. I am no longer. What do you want? If it is anything reasonable, I will try to get it for you."

"That is more than you have said for some time," Straha replied. "What I chiefly want to know is whether you have finally extracted all the yolk from my egg. If you have, I would like to live somewhere other than Shepheard's Hotel."

"Your debriefing appears to be complete, yes," Atvar answered. "But what will you do if you are turned loose on the members of the Race here on Tosev 3? How will you support yourself ? The position of shiplord came with pay. The position of nuisance, while otherwise eminent, does not."

In genuine curiosity, Straha asked, "Where did you learn such sarcasm? You did not speak so when I was a shiplord."

"Dealing with Fleetlord Reffet may have something to do with it," Atvar told him. "Dealing with Big Uglies may have something to do with it, too. In different ways, they drive a sensible male mad."

That a.s.sumed he was sensible. Straha made no such a.s.sumption. But he kept quiet about the a.s.sumptions he did make. Atvar held his fate in his fingerclaws. All he said was, "You are not quite the male you were."

"No one who comes to Tosev 3 escapes unchanged," Atvar said. "But you have not answered my question. Have you any plans for making a living if you are allowed entry into the greater society of the Race?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," Straha said. "I was thinking of drafting my memoirs and living off the proceeds of publication. I am, I gather, notorious. I ought to be able to exploit that for the sake of profit."

"No one who comes to Tosev 3 escapes unchanged," Atvar repeated. "When you were a shiplord, you would never have debased yourself so."

"Perhaps not," Straha said. "But then again, who knows? I have had unique experiences. Why should others not be interested in learning of them?"

"Because they were illegal?" Atvar suggested. "Because they were shameful? Because your descriptions of them may be libelous?"

"All those things should attract interest to my story," Straha said cheerfully. "No one would care to read the memoirs of a clerk who did nothing but sit in front of a monitor his whole life long."

"No one will read your memoirs if they are libelous," Atvar said. "You are not in the United States any more, you know."